I have come to the conclusion, that many of us share.  Bats creep me out.  Not the athletic gear, or Adam West.  No, the bad of which I speak is the ugly, hairy, awful looking thing that flies around tormenting us all.  It can safely be said, that most of us, would rather have nothing to do with them.

Granted, they do serve a purpose, but that doesn't mean we have to like them. Though on balance, I may hate mosquitoes more, and bats do eat mosquitoes.  But then again, maybe not.  So anyway...

We live in a older three story home, in a 'historic' district.  I am not real sure what is historic about it, but every time you want to make a improvement, there are all sorts of covenants and rules about what can and can't be done.  It is a beautiful house, that is about 100 years old.  The problem with older homes, is what is also considered their charm.  There are many 'nooks and crannies,' high ceilings with unusual corners, windows in strange places, and things that you really don't know what they are.  Which is all fine, but in the end, that means there are also all sorts of places that a bat can get in.

So the story takes place on Memorial Day, 2010.  That evening, while I am sitting in the living room, a bat flies through.  Going from one end of the house to the other, just flapping away.  So, thinking quickly, I turn on the lights, open the doors and head to the tennis racket.

One this the racket is as in my hand, I am ready to repel the attack.  While heading down the upstairs hallway, he makes another appearance, this time making a swoop for my head.   Now it is personal.  Just as I put the ordinance in the chamber (Okay I lifted the racket up in position to do something constructive), he makes a second swoop at my melon.  This now is my chance to establish superiority between, a top of the food chain human ("In this corner, wearing blue shorts, T-shirt and a pair or Reeboks, getting fatter and grayer by the minute, Jeff Hare...) against a very small, horribly ugly mammal ("And our challenger, from the caves, not wearing shorts, but looking ferocious just the same, Mr. Bat...). 

So there it was, he and I.  His next move is high,  and I take a swing.  It is time for a basic Pete Sampras shot that knock that thing it the never world.  Except...While missing the creature, the racket came back up, hitting my head and nearly knocking me out.  Okay, I concede. He wins round one. 

HK was no help, as she was somewhere in hiding with a towel over her head.  There was one thing that was clear.  That huge four bedroom, drafty house was too small for both of us.  Someone had to go.  It was the McClearys and the Clantons and the OK Corral. 

By now, I am convinced that the bat is laughing at me.  Actually, it had to be funny, getting hit in the head with a tennis racket, while chasing a nine inch rodent  It was also obvious,  that a strategy was needed. 

He took off again, this time ending up in a back bedroom, high up on the wall, staring down and snarling at me.  Actually he was probably taking a nap, but who can tell.  They are blind after all.  So I shut the bedroom door, and tried to figure out what to do..

I wanted to send HK in after it, but for 'unknown' reasons, she wouldn't.  Then it hit me.  Just like the Clantons, in the aforementioned showdown in Tombstone, I needed a real gunfighter to stop this problem.  Since Doc Holliday has been dead for over a hundred years, I got the next best thing.  In fact I'd even let 'nature' take it's course.

In the animal kingdom, it is survival of the fittest, and the strongest survive.  The strongest, and baddest creature I know is our Jack Russell Terrier, Oliver.  Nothing gets in his house, unless he says so.  And make no mistake, he wanted nothing to do with this tiny intruder.  As the boxing guy says in Las Vegas, "Lets get ready to rruummmblleee..Our guy was ready.

We opened the door,and Ollie charged in to do his natural, instinctual job. Problem is, he stands all of about 18 inches tall.  Batboy was sitting ten feet above the floor.

To this day, I have no idea how he did it.  Looking through the keyhole (okay, we opened the door a crack. Since HK still wouldn't go into the bedroom, so we opened the door ajar to check the action.), we could see Ollie looking up snarling, and the dirt little piece of vermin looking down, not knowing what to expect. 

In my life, I have seen every episode of the TV series.  In addition, there was also the movies, with Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, George Clooney and Christian Bale all staring in the role.  But in every production of  Batman, and no matter what situation he was in, the 'Winged Warrior'  would always lived to tell about it.  Except this time.

I have no idea how he got it done.  Maybe Oliver is actually Underdog ("There's no need to fear, Underdog is here."), and flew to the top of the wall to save us, who knows.  What I do know is, the whole situation was over in about 20 seconds.  There was some scratching noise, and that was it.  Game over.  Tip your waitresses and drive home safe.

Somebody was on my side that night.  That someone weighs about 20 pounds, and has an surly attitude.  To this day, that dog is like my right arm in the house.  Rightfully so, he deserves it. 

Back Thursday with another Person of the Week.

We will talk soon

Jeff